


A Garden Full Grown

by shadowshrike



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Adults, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, No Deeprealms, Sickfic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-08-09 20:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowshrike/pseuds/shadowshrike
Summary: Xander has abdicated the throne to his son and decided to live the remainder of his days away from the castle. When Midori gets wind of her father struggling with a minor illness, she comes to his bedside to care for her parents.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A late birthday fic for Xander and a sort of reverse companion piece to [ Storms and Stories](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108856). Just like in that one, Kaze/Xander is implied but not a focal point of the story.

“How many times must I tell you, papa? I know what a skilled knight you are, but you should leave hunting bandits to the local guard, especially when you’re ill,” Midori scolded, pressing her fingers against Xander’s pulse. She scribbled something illegible in her notebook and released his wrist.

Even with limbs lacking the vigor of youth, her old man’s disapproving stare had lost no power over the years. “And how many times have I told you that you need to work on your penmanship? No one will be able to read that kinshi-scratch.”

Midori smiled to avoid rolling her eyes. “No changing the subject. Chin up, please,” she said. 

Xander obeyed, but loose curls and a neat beard obstructed her view of his neck. Needing more visibility for her work, Midori brushed aside long hair, golden locks now faded with time like the sun giving way to dusk, and pressed her fingertips into his neck to feel for any lingering sickness. Some swelling, but nothing a little root tea with apple cider vinegar and honey wouldn’t fix. 

“If feels like you’ve recovered from the worst of the illness, but it still lingers enough to impair your breathing, which is why you nearly collapsed after that skirmish,” Midori explained. She released his neck and dug in her bag for the oil she needed to start her treatment. “You’re lucky that father called on me. I have a few things that may help.”

The mention of Kaze turned the edge of Xander’s lips upward, as it always had in her youth. Back then, she didn’t realize how special it was. 

To an outside observer, the conqueror-king of Nohr appeared draconian in his child-rearing and harsh to his family. His smiles were only shown those those closest to him. Kaze was not so different from his husband in that respect, kinder but still too focused on duties to mimic the warmth Midori’s peers expected of a loving father. It had taken years to understand that there was love in their scolding, rules, and exhaustive lessons, and heartwarming to know both cared for their family more than any policy meeting or treaty signing.

Now, Midori could see that love of in Xander’s expression as clear as the stars on a cloudless night. Subtle and warm, it soothed her heart.Whenever the cold realities of Nohr’s hunger, sickness, and corruption brought her down, the mere sight of her father’s timid smile made Midori feel as though everything would be okay in the world.

Still smiling with that private fondness, Xander replied, “He always did know when to override my will. Your father is a much wiser and more stubborn man than he will ever admit.”

“He is. You’d do well to listen to him more often,” Midori teased while she spread the medicinal oil over her hands. A vaguely bitter botanical smell filled the space between them, and her father’s nose crinkled at the top when the scent hit him. He was apparently still a baby about the aroma of her medicines.

At least he seemed to be ready to soldier through it today. Anticipating her need for access to his throat once again, Xander brushed a curl still clinging to his neck out of the way, scoffing, “I do listen to him. Why do you think my hair is so long?” 

“Ah, so father finally convinced you? How long has he been asking?” 

“Only since you were born,” Xander answered. The glint in his eye gave away humor his stone face didn’t, and Midori laughed. She remembered those oddly pressured conversations about what Hoshidan versus Nohrian men considered ‘manly’ where hair was concerned. As far as parental arguments went, it was probably the least traumatizing Midori could have hoped for.

“Alright, hold still, please. This will feel a little odd,” she warned as her oiled hands got to work. 

After briskly spreading oil over the base of his neck, Midori sought out pressure points around her father’s ears and face to force out some of the illness. Xander’s frown deepened, swallowing futilely as his sinuses opened and attempted to drain with each hard press. By the time she allowed a rest, rummaging through her bag for the tea ingredients she needed, the former elegant king sounded as though he was hocking up one of his cats’ hairballs.

“In the future, you may want to advertise the sensation as something other than ‘odd’ to your patients,” he suggested between coughs. 

Midori hummed, only half listening, “I’ve found it’s better to keep them calm with ‘odd’ than suggest they might feel as though they’re drowning. My tutors called it basic bedside manner.”

“I see.” Xander’s lips tightened, and he cleared his throat to ward off more coughing fits. “Then should I bother asking what concoction you’re about to brew for me, or will that also be ‘softened’ by your bedside manor?”

“It’s a tea.” When her father’s complexion paled, she added, “Don’t worry, there’s no fish juice in this one. Roots, apples and honey. It will help ease the pain your throat is going to feel from all that sickness being pulled away from your face.”

A skeptical glare answered her. “That sounds remarkably tame for one of your medicines.”

“It’s been many years in the making. Saizo refused to take it unless I added the honey, though he requires three times as much as a normal person of his build, and Siggy suggested apple vinegar over the other vinegar I had been using to make it more pleasant for our countrymen,” Midori clarified. As she stood, a coy smirk that too-closely resembled Kaze’s when he was up to mischief crossed her face. “I may not be much of a cook, papa, but I do have taste buds despite what you and father used to say.”

Xander made a quiet noise of protest, but Midori was already gone when another cough came out instead of a defense. Having at last located the pouch with all the necessary ingredients, she took off to start a pot of water boiling. For two men who were once in charge of an entire nation, they had very little in their kitchen. It wasn’t really surprising as culinary prowess definitely did not run in their family, and Midori suspected that despite their family’s insistence that they should indulge in hiring a private chef from the royal coffers after abdicating the throne, the two of them made soups most nights with whatever game they’d recently hunted instead. 

Thankfully, tea was one of the few other forms of sustenance they both regularly enjoyed. The tea kettle was already sitting near the fire, ready for use and surrounded by an assortment of jars Midori recognized from when she first learned herbology under Kaze’s tutelage. 

She smiled and brushed a thumb over a hairline crack in a red ceramic jug. Catnip. Midori had been only eight when the family cat had knocked it over, causing her to jump while working. She had burned herself on the cauldron and after a panicked rescue by her father, got herself banned from boiling medicines for the longest week of her life. Midori had been so angry at the time. Now, staring at the old, ugly jug, she missed that cat’s antics and the quiet, simple days of her youth. 

“How is he?” Xander called from the other room, startling Midori from her nostalgia. “I assume he was at the banquet last week with High Prince Shiro.”

“Who?”

“Asu-- Saizo the Sixth,” Xander corrected himself. 

Midori giggled quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear across the cottage. He’d struggled to know the right thing to call her cousin the entirety of his life, in no small part thanks to constant family tiffs about his ‘real’ name. Now that he’d grown into his place as heir to the Saizo clan, and rumors of King Ryoma stepping down and taking the acting clan head with him proliferated the courts, their confusion had only intensified.

“He’s doing well. I think he’s finally settled,” she reported, replacing the lid to the kettle. “Though you know him and Shiro. They always manage to find something to fight with their fathers about.”

Xander’s voice dripped with amusement, “That much I recall. And you and Siegbert are often left to be the peacekeepers. What is it now?”

“The same as it has been for the past months. Shiro’s pressuring King Ryoma to abdicate like you did and leave ruling to him, but King Ryoma insists he isn’t ready because he doesn’t take his studies as seriously as Siggy does. You can imagine how well that went over.”

“I can,” Xander sighed. He’d done his fair share of mediating their squabbles over the years, proud he and his own son didn’t have that problem at least. “But Siegbert handled it well?”

“Exactly as a king should. He steered the conversation towards the recent bandit problem as soon as they became heated, giving both King Ryoma and Shiro a chance to speak up on the subject and feel important,” she said.

Xander nodded an approval that Midori couldn’t see. “That’s my boy. He’s come a long way since you were all children together.”

“You mean like the time we had to drag him out of the Shirasagi river because Shiro and Saizo said his father was too chicken to swim, so he felt he had to prove that Nohrians weren’t afraid of water?”

Rich laughter spilled from Xander, broken apart by a lingering cough. “Yes, I had almost forgotten about that. Or the time we were called away from a war meeting because the castle guard had to intervene in a fist fight between the three of them. We were told they couldn’t agree about whether or not Asugi should apologize for the extra sweets he stole in the kitchen. You know how those two get about being told what to do...”

“...and how often Siegbert and I would try to act as their know-it-all conscience, yes, I do,” Midori finished, laughing along. “I think I was lucky being younger. Siggy always got the worst of it.”

She walked back into her father’s bedroom carrying a dark, wooden tea tray decorated with lions dancing around the edge and three names carved in the corner.  Midori fondly ran her fingers over the rough cuts while she poured the tea. They had made this tray as a family almost fifteen years ago as a birthday gift for Xander; its well-loved and recently-polished surface a testament to how sentimental their stoic father could be.

She pressed a steaming mug into her father’s hands. “Careful, it’s hot, and you’ll need to drink the entire thing.”

“You know, I don’t think it was your age that saved you,” Xander said, picking up their earlier conversation. He blew over the surface of the tea.

“Then what do you think it was?”

“Your tenacity.” Xander sipped his drink, wincing when it immediately burned his tongue. “Your brother, even with all his years on you, never shared in your ability to face his fears head on. You seem to have taken after your Aunt Elise. The smile of an angel and a will of iron - a mark of a born healer.”

Midori cocked her head curiously, saying, “You think it’s from Aunt Elise? I don’t know. I’m sure I got it from someone more close to home.”

Xander attempted to drink his tea again, this time managing a full swallow before responding, “You mean your father? It’s true that he’s a kind man and more determined than any I’ve met. You know, that’s how I originally fell for him. I had challenged him to a spar and…”

“I know the story,” Midori interrupted before she was forced to listen to it again for the thousandth time. She offered a nurturing smile to soothe any ruffled feathers. “...but I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about you, papa.”

Xander fixed her with a disbelieving stare. “Are you sure you aren’t the one who’s sick?”

“Don’t try to deflect,” Midori scolded. “You might be able to convince the other knights you’re made of iron, but I’m your daughter. I know how kind you are. And even if I didn’t, the two new stray kittens waiting for me at the door when I came in gave you away. You’ve always had a soft heart.”

Only the quiet slurp of tea followed her accusation. Looking up at her father, Midori found his eyes focused far away as his hands mechanically moved the tea to his lips and back over and over. 

Lost in the past again. It happened more often these days than it used to, the littlest wrong comment sending him back to a place they couldn’t follow. No matter how often she or Siegbert asked him what he saw during these episodes, Xander refused to answer, just as he refused to talk about anything other than the rosier parts of his upbringing. Midori desperately wished he would let them help him heal from whatever demons plagued him. 

Unfortunately, Kaze supported Xander’s right to refuse aid, gently reminding his children that all men had their private battles and it was their prerogative to choose how to fight them. Over time, she and her brother had learned to accept his reasoning for their parents’ comfort. She still thought it was a ridiculous, antiquated way of handling hardship, but the fight that would ensue from pushing her father for answers wasn’t worth it, especially while he was still recovering from illness.

Xander came back to her when he tried to take another sip of tea and the bottom of the cup greeted him. His eyes fluttered, a red dusting of embarrassment clinging to his ears, and gingerly set down his drink. “I lost my focus there for a moment. I must be more tired than I thought. My apologies, Midori.”

Midori gently moved away the tray with his finished medicine, then rested a hand over his and reassured him, “It’s alright. You’re still recovering and could use the rest, anyway. Close your eyes for now, I promise I will still be here when you wake. I need to check on father’s knee when he gets home, too.”

Nodding in exhaustion and acceptance, Xander closed his eyes. These flashbacks always left him feeling bone tired, and the illness only made it worse. His head lolled to the side. His breathing slowed. Then, after a few dragging breaths, Xander forced his eyes back open into small slits. “I want you to know I’m proud of you and all you do, Midori. You’ve chosen a noble path for a princess.”

“Thank you,” Midori replied with a sweet, if a touch exasperated, smile. Of course he would choose the worst time to speak so candidly, likely following a half-remembered mandate from his husband about expressing his satisfaction to his children about their choices more often. She tapped his hand again and insisted,  “But that’s enough for now. Go to sleep. You’ll want your strength for dinner tonight. You can say more then if you need to.”

Defiant to the last, Xander squeezed her hand, trying to repeat himself, but his eyes and mouth fell shut against his will. He only managed one more whisper before sleep claimed him, “I love you...my sunflower…”

“...I love you too, papa.”


	2. Chapter 2

The door squeaked no louder than a mouse when Kaze entered. If Midori hadn’t been in the dining area setting their table at the time, she surely would have missed it entirely. The wooden set of silverware she had been carrying clattered to the tablecloth as the young woman rushed to greet her father. She didn’t wait for him to take off his shoes to bounce into his waiting arms.

“Father...I’ve missed you,” she said. She squeezed him tight, so tight she forced a cough out of him. Sheepishly, she let go.

Her father’s smile was like the sun on a spring afternoon, full of a warmth that radiated to the tips of her toes. Unlike his husband, time had not etched itself deeply on his face. Kaze’s skin remained smooth as it ever was, with only faint lines around his eyes to show the joys and sorrows he had experienced over the years. His hair was only slightly lighter, too, like walking through the forest midday rather than during the budding dawn. 

Kaze brushed his daughter’s hair back over her shoulder with the gentleness of a passing breeze. “I missed you, too, Midoriko. You grow more beautiful and capable every time I see you.”

“You know it’s only because I learned it from you. I’m lucky to have such a handsome, capable father,” she returned with a laugh.

He huffed a disbelieving chuckle, finally toeing off his shoes and stepping into the slippers he’d insisted on when Xander had finally agreed to buying a house away from the castle. “Is that what your papa tells you?”

“I know you like to blame him for everything nice said about you, but I came to that conclusion on my own,” Midori insisted.

She barely repressed an eyeroll when Kaze turned away from her then, using the excuse of shedding his cloak to avoid a conversation about his virtues. He had hated being praised as long as she could remember. Midori wondered if he had realized yet that Xander had started a game among their little family years ago, offering a prize for whoever could get Kaze to accept the most compliments in a year. She had won that prize every year except the one where Siegbert had spent six months studying with Kaze in Hoshido before his coronation. Keeping Kaze away for that long was basically cheating, but since her brother was about to become king, she decided to allow it.

Upon further reflection, she didn’t need to wonder if Kaze knew about it. Of course he did. He knew everything that happened in their family without needing to be told, the same way his husband seemed to. Midori smiled at the thought her father had rigged the contest in her favor for so long.

“It’s good to see you so happy,” he said. His amethyst eyes glinted, reflecting the fireplace back at her, and he bent down to greet a kitten who had trotted over to welcome him home.

“I feel the same way about you and papa. Siggy and I have been worried about you both since you left the palace,” she confessed. “You know...you could have come to the banquet even though papa was sick. We would have loved to see you, father, and you know his infection wasn’t serious.”

Kaze laughed, straightening. The kitten pawed futilely at a pant leg to get him to come back. “And you know that your papa’s a terrible patient when left alone. It’s better for everyone that I stayed here to care for him until you could come.”

Midori didn’t match his mirth. Though technically a king for the same length of time as his husband, Kaze had never fully accepted himself in the role of royalty. His habit of avoiding royal events if Xander wasn’t present never used to bother Midori, but now that they were grown and their family scattered with full lives, she feared she may stop seeing him altogether when Xander’s health failed one day.  

“Papa was the most respected and feared knight in all of Nohr for many years. I think he could have taken care of himself for a few days,” Midori chastised. “Between Siggy being king and my medical missions all over the world, we don’t get many occasions to see you anymore.”

“Ah yes, your missions,” Kaze responded, brushing past her and into the kitchen to wash up. Apparently that was to be the end of their discussion about him missing the banquet. “I’ve heard that you’ve made great strides in treating the cow-pox which has been spreading since opening the borders. I hope you’ve been taking enough time to eat between your patients?”

Midori shook her head as she tagged along behind him. “Father, I’ve been traveling on my own for the last five years. You don’t need to worry about me missing meals anymore.”

He frowned, not the neutral one he wore when thinking, but the stern one that could challenge his husband’s in severity. “That wasn’t a ‘yes’. Don’t you remember what I’ve told you about the importance of eating enough while working?”

“Uncle Saizo says he can go days without eating.”

She could see him seethe beneath the surface, the same as he did every time Midori had come home from visiting her uncle having learned herb preparations he didn’t agree with. 

“You are not my brother,” he pushed back with clipped words. “He has been trained since birth to push his body to limits most cannot attain, and even he would not forgo eating without good reason. You should not push yourself so hard when you don’t need to. I don’t want you collapsing again when I cannot be there to nurse you back to health.”

“That only happened twice! And the second time wasn’t because I hadn’t eaten, it was because I accidentally exposed myself to the illness I was trying to cure. I’m much more careful with masks, gloves, and keeping a clean work area now.”

“You must forgive me. It is a father’s duty to worry over his children,” Kaze reminded her. He laid a hand atop her head, gently ruffling the loose hairs. 

It was difficult to tousle her hair the way he did with Siegbert. Though she no longer wore pigtails, Midori always had her hair up in a tight bun for anything other than formal occasions. She preferred to keep her hair neat so it didn’t interfere with her medical practice, but she was cursed with the same fine locks as her father, regularly slipping out of a ribbon’s grip. Midori’s patients called the hairstyle ‘effortless’ and ‘pretty’, but she considered it unruly.

“And it is a grown child’s duty to care for their parents as well,” Midori replied, gesturing to one of the seats at the half-set table. She hadn’t forgotten about the twinge in his knee Xander had mentioned in their last letters.

“You don’t need to…”

“I insist, father. Please,  _ be seated _ .” 

Midori wielded the authority of a Nohrian Princess with the precision of an arrow from her quiver. Not wanting to pick a fight, Kaze resigned himself to following his daughter’s orders. He sat down in the worn, wooden chair she indicated, one of a non-matching set he’d bought off a young Nohrian woodworker starting her trade, and rolled up his right pant leg. 

Midori exhaled, relieved. The swelling wasn’t as terrible as she had feared when she heard of his pain. Joints under as much stress as a ninja’s deteriorated quickly with age, and he’d already permanently damaged one of his hips, ironically the opposite of the one his twin blew out on a mission last year. Midori sifted through her bag still perched near the fireplace, returning with a length of tough bandage.

“It’s not serious yet, but you’ll need to rest it for a while. No riding, no long hikes, and definitely no training. This brace will help with stability until the swelling goes down,” she said, wrapping it tight enough to make her father wince.

“I’m afraid I have a prior engagement with the town to assist them in cleaning the main road. I need to tend to them before I rest,” he protested.

“What you need is to spend time here with papa while he recovers.” Midori gave the bandage one last tug, tucking it neatly into itself to stop the fabric from slipping. “I know he likes to say you haven’t aged a day, but your bones and joints don’t agree. You both can’t keep putting the same kind of stress on your bodies that you did during the war, father. I’m proud to have two parents who live to serve their people, but I’m worried that it may take you from me prematurely. I don’t want to come here five years from now and find you bedridden...please, father...”

Kaze’s hands grasped hers, swiping soothing circles with his thumbs. “Shh...it’s alright, Sunflower. I promise, we’ll take better care of ourselves. You know papa and I don’t want to cause you any more pain than we need to.”

“Then...could you do something to make me feel better?”

“Anything.”

“Come to the castle next month?” Midori asked. “Siggy is holding a feast for the people to eat among the nobility and air their grievances. You wouldn’t even need to come as the former king, you could just be a citizen of Nohr.”

Dropping her hands, Kaze chuckled and shook his head. “A very clever trap you’ve laid. Your papa taught you how to catch a ninja too well.”

“Is that a no?”

“You’ve earned your victory over me honorably,” Kaze admitted, bowing shallowly to her. “I will attend as you’ve requested. You can let your brother know.”

Midori grinned. “He’ll be so happy to hear it. He’s been asking after you.”

“Then we will have to invite the king over for supper when he can spare a moment.” Kaze reached across the table to pick up one of the wooden spoons Midori had set down earlier - the one he’d carved a wolf into the handle of years ago. “We still have his place setting waiting for him.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought it out. It felt strange to only have the three on the table,” Midori said, reaching for her own spoon carved into the likeness of a sunflower.

Kaze smiled. “Don’t tell your papa that I shared this, but...we always dine with the full set. Our first night in this house we tried to only take out our own utensils. He ended up crying through the entire dinner, trying to pretend he was allergic to the spices I’d put on his fish. Needless to say, since then I’ve always made sure our children had a place at our table.”

“He really misses us that much?”

“He does. As do I,” Kaze insisted. “I’m sorry neither of us says it enough.”

“You can make it up to me by helping with dinner. No standing,” Midori warned as her father tried to follow her to her feet, waving her hand to get him to sit. “I’ll bring you the things which need chopping. You can do it at the table.”

“And you’re certain this meal will be...ah...agreeable for your papa’s sick stomach?” Kaze questioned as a wooden board and his favorite cooking knife were placed in front of him.

Taking an armful of radishes and lettuce from the pile of produce Kaze had been gifted during his last town visit and lugging them to the table, Midori huffed indignantly, “It’s only a stew. Neither of you have any faith in my cooking.”

“Forgive me. Your last stew was…” Kaze tried to hide his pause by grabbing a radish and cutting it up in rapid strokes, making a perfect, even fan of vegetable slices in a matter of seconds. “...quite creative.”

Midori sighed and left her father to his cutting, turning her focus to the big pot of herbs, water and bones to be boiled. Some things would never change. She supposed there were worse things than forever being their little daughter, known for her love of experimentation and the eccentric. As long as she could share these quiet moments with her parents, preparing dinner together, caring for one another, and talking about their lives, she could be content not growing up completely in their eyes. 

Midori always liked the short sunflowers best anyway - they seemed so much happier among the other flowers.


End file.
